


A Murder of Crows

by the-nug-king (eloralouistra)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 08:24:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4472234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eloralouistra/pseuds/the-nug-king
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Master Ignacio approaches the Grey Warden with an offer. She turns him down quite violently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Murder of Crows

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place at the start of the Trial of the Crows questline.
> 
> Warnings for murder and for brief mentions of slavery, child abuse, torture and a vague reference to rape.
> 
> Many thanks to aromantic-eight and stormsbreadth for the beta.

“It could be genuine,” says Zevran, brow furrowing over the Crow’s cryptic letter. “Or,” he looks up at Vari with a grin, “It could be a trap. For either of us.”

“Hey, it could be for me, you know,” Alistair puts in. “I’m a Grey Warden too, remember? People want me dead, as well as Vari.”

“Then I assume you will all feel safer once these Crows are disposed of,” says Morrigan. “I suggest we go to them now, rather than wasting our time debating precisely who they may be after.”

There’s not really anything more to discuss.

*

It’s not a trap, apparently. Ignacio expresses no desire to harm any one of them and Zevran confirms that he’s telling the truth. Vari stands in one of the tavern’s larger rooms, sunlight turning the tapestries into a riot of colour that seemed at odds with the topic of conversation and is given an opportunity to work for the most renowned group of assassins in Thedas.

A few months ago, when she’d first met Zevran, she knows she would have jumped at the chance to take on a contract. Back then, she thought the Crows were romantic. She’s hung on to every word Zevran told her of his adventures, begged him to teach her the skills he learnt from them, whispered between kisses of how his life as an assassin thrilled her. Except that if this Blight has taught her anything, it’s that the real world is a lot harsher than her fantasies, and between stories and fighting and lovemaking, she’s discovered what being a Crow really means.

The normality of being bought as a slave at seven years old. The children who weren’t effective enough and died at the hands of the Crows’. The embargo on personal belongings, on anything that made a child an individual, rather than an asset, even when it was all Zevran had of his mother. How they took elves for their beauty, (the way Vaughan did, she thinks, furiously,) yet it was humans like Ignacio who led them. And the nightmare in the Fade that Zevran still refuses to speak of; tolerance of pain built up through torture, as a normal part of training. She wonders if he was still a child, when it happened. Vari won’t think of the Crows with anything like wonder ever again and she certainly won’t show mercy to anyone who’d treat people like that. To anyone who’d treat Zevran like that.

“Enough,” she tells Ignacio, pulling out her daggers.

“Ah,” he draws his own weapons. “I was afraid of this.”

*

The room erupts into chaos; Crows spring from every shadow and darkened corner and the air filled with the sound of shouts and clashing blades. Zevran only has seconds to contemplate the irony of his situation; how many times before has he been the one hiding in the shadows for the Crows? Then he’s twisting out of the way of a dagger, and driving his own into an attacker’s shoulder.

Alistair goes down almost immediately, getting in some good hits but ultimately unable to keep up with the speed with which the assassins dodge around him. Zevran loses track of both Vari and Ignacio for a minute, the two of them adept at using the shadows as their cover. He dispatches a Crow with a quick stab to the gut as the Warden calls for him, and turns to find her locked in combat with Ignacio. Over the past few months, Zevran and Vari have become quite accomplished at fighting together. While Vari deflects Ignacio’s blows, Zevran attacks from behind, working his own blades under the human’s armour, the two of them ready to switch their roles should Ignacio turn on Zevran. Vari flashes him a dazzling smile as she skips to the side, dodging Ignacio yet again, and he gives her a quick grin back, admiring her skill. And then Ignacio’s somehow side steps them, his dagger connecting with Vari’s helmet in a lucky blow. She yells, and drops, body hitting the ground in a graceless heap and then lying still.

Zevran’s heart hammers in his chest, but he pushes himself to remain calm, Vari will be fine, and he’s won battles with worse odds alone. The familiar feeling of Morrigan’s healing spell washes over him, reinvigorating him before she too falls and then he’s truly alone. He turns to Ignacio grimly, ready to end this.

“Only a fool betrays the Crows” the human sneers.

“Only a fool takes on a Grey Warden.” Zevran’s lip curls. “I would know.” He strikes out quickly, and Ignacio is too slow, stumbling backwards with Zevran’s dagger to his neck.

“You could rejoin us, you know.” Ignacio’s face is impassive, only his offer betraying his fear. “My cell could acquire you, protect you from those who may begrudge you your original failure.”

Zevran raises an eyebrow. “Oh? And what happened to “dead already” in your eyes?”

“Well, now I think on it, being dead seems as though it may be quite unpleasant,” his eyes flick to the dagger at his neck and then back to Zevran. “Finish off the Warden, or don’t. But leave here with me. You are a Crow, you cannot walk away from that.”

Zevran narrows his eyes, watching the human. It shouldn’t be different from any other murder. Make them helpless, watch them squirm, smile as the light leaves their eyes. Except it  _is_  different, it’s about what he chooses and about Vari and- And it’s about cutting off that train of thought _now_.

“My apologies,” he says, pushing down on the dagger and watching it slit the Crow’s throat. “But I am quite capable of walking away.”

*

Vari sits up, with a groan, hand gingerly going to the side of her head. Her fingers slide over the familiar gel of a health poultice. She looks around to see Alistair and Morrigan sitting up as well, across the room. Ignacio and his assassins lie dead. Zevran stands impassively, uncharacteristically silent, his daggers and the sack of poultices at his feet.

“Zev?” She pulls herself to her feet, approaching her friend. “Are you all right?”

He turns to her with a blank gaze, opens his mouth as if to speak before the words seem to die in his throat, and gives a small nod. She’s never seem him behave at all like this before. Even at that first meeting, when he woke tied up and battered with Vari’s dagger at his neck, he’d seemed barely concerned. She doesn’t know how to react to this change in him and it’s terrifying.

She glances over at Alistair, wondering if she’s missed some subtle clue as to what’s up with Zevran. He shrugs, helplessly.

“What’s wrong? What did Ignacio do?” Vari reaches out to take Zevran’s hand, squeezing it in her own, realising that he’s shaking slightly. Still no reply. “Zev please, talk to –” She’s cut off by his lips suddenly on hers. Vari wraps her arms around him as he pulls her closer, hardly hearing Alistair’s stammers that they’ll wait outside before he pulls Morrigan out of the room.

Zevran kisses her roughly and urgently and unlike any way she’s ever been kissed before, pausing only so they can gasp for breath before his mouth crashes back against her own. She lets him push her onto the bed – Ignacio’s bed, she thinks, the bed of the man they just murdered. It’s splattered with drops of their blood and his body is  _still in the room_ , and  _Maker_ , if there’s ever been a wrong time for this it’s  _now_ , but with the way Zev’s kissing her, nothing in Thedas could make her tell him to stop. His body presses against hers and he pulls back from her mouth to look at her questioningly as his hands hover over the fastenings of her armour.

Vari nods, kicking her boots off, and starts pulling at Zevran’s clothes. She lets herself get caught up in his urgency, replaces her worry for him with want and scrambles eagerly to get their clothes out of the way and Zevran inside her. He enters her faster and harder than usual; she cries out as her body adjusts, before wrapping her legs around him and tangling her fingers into his hair. He fucks her the way he kissed her, like it’s the most important thing to the world, with an urgency so unlike his usual finesse. Zevran has proven adept at manipulating her body over the past few months, his every touch usually carefully determined. This time, expertise is ignored as he seems to concentrate solely on being with her. It’s  _messy_ and it leaves her breathless in a completely new way.

Zevran shifts, bringing his mouth down to bite into her neck, making her hiss, arching into his touch. He collapses forward and presses his face against her neck. Vari feels his eyes squeeze closed before he finally speaks. “He asked me to go back to the Crows,” Zevran says roughly, thrusting into her even harder as he speaks.

She strokes his cheek before she can stop herself, her tenderness feeling out of place in the middle of this. “You deserve better than them, Zevran,”

“I deserve nothing.” Another thrust.

The hand in his hair tightens. “You  _do_ , you know. And you will _listen_  to me when I tell you that. Because you’re not part of the Crows any longer,” She tugs on his braid, pulling his head up so she can look him in the eye. “You’re _mine_  now.”

Something shifts in his expression as she speaks and Zevran cries out hoarsely, exploding inside her. She lets go of her hair and he kisses the mark he left on her neck before sliding down from the bed. He pulls her towards him by her legs, dropping to his knees and bringing her to completion with a few movements of his tongue.

Vari closes her eyes, sighing in contentment in the aftermath of her orgasm, as Zevran starts gathering up their clothes. When she looks up at him again, he has his usual lazy grin and looks utterly relaxed. She can’t be sure whether it’s a disappointment or a relief.

“You know,” he comments, throwing Vari’s shirt to her, “You are the first of my targets I have ever slept with in the bed of a recently deceased Crow I turned on.”

Vari grins back, slipping back easily into their normal banter. “You make me feel so special, Zev.”

“I try. Now, I suggest we dress and return to our companions before they begin to worry.”

Vari nods, the two of them dressing and gathering up their equipment in silence. “You  _are_ all right, aren’t you?” she asks, as they’re about to leave.

Zevran tuts. “Such concern, my Grey Warden. I shall be fine, provided I have your continued protection from the Crows.”

“Always,” Vari tells him, taking his hand.

His fingers tighten around hers and they leave the Crows’ room together.

**Author's Note:**

> During my Tabris playthrough, Ignacio came out with his "Only a fool betrays the Crows" line when all the party but Zev were unconscious. So I had to write about it.


End file.
